


Everybody Knows

by Gabe_sorin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Class Divisions, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Muggle/Wizard Relations, POV Regulus Black, Purebloods (Harry Potter), Regulus Black Feels, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 23:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18486271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabe_sorin/pseuds/Gabe_sorin
Summary: "And everybody knows that it's now or neverEverybody knows that it's me or youAnd everybody knows that you live forever"In a divided society, nothing is ever simple. Everyone needs to decide what side they stand on, and what they believe.A story of the Black family, the Wizarding society, and changing times.





	Everybody Knows

**Author's Note:**

> My first published short-story in English. Please excuse any errors - English is not my native language. I've tried, anyways ;) Let me know what You think.  
> Additionally, this was inspired by the recent fire of the Notre-Dam cathedral. I do not share the opinions of the characters but I have long since started to think that not everything was so black-and-white (excluse the pun) during the First Wizarding War, as we are sometimes led to believe. So if you are a fan of shades-of-gray, you might like it.
> 
> Sirius is 15, Regulus 13.

Breakfast was supposed to be an uneventful, peaceful beginning of a day. He was sure of it – might have read it somewhere, actually. But in his household, nothing was ever ordinary. Or uneventful. Or peaceful, for that matter.

That was why Regulus liked to wake up early and enjoy the thirty minutes before his parents came down, sat down, and the morning paper arrived. By now, all three of them were sitting around a large ebony table, its glossy surface glistening in morning sunshine. The 20th July and Regulus was happy for the sunshine, London usually being very rainy during summers.

“Of course they will not say it was Mudbloods who did it. Of course!”

There went the peace. And silence. Regulus tiredly looked up from his scrambled eggs, looking at his father. He was reading the morning edition of WWN: his brow furrowed as it normally was, his eyes flashing with anger. Regulus returned his attention to his eggs. After years of experience with his family’s behaviour, he knew there was no need to get excited. His father was quick to anger, meaning every time there were newspapers, he got angry.

“It happened so close to Lammas, it cannot be a coincidence.”

His mother was elegantly sipping tea from a porcelain cup, already prepared for the day: the black, ornate dress hanging melancholically around her form, moving every time she made a tiniest of movements, and so similar to all the other dresses his mother owned, Regulus could not be certain which one it were.

“Well, did they find any evidence?”

Regulus stopped himself from sighing. There went the uneventfulness as well, then. And the weather looked so promising, he had almost believed this morning could be different.

“You can’t say the Muggleborns burnt a whole field just because you think they did!”

His brother arrived at the scene. Always, always having to make a dramatic entrance, and Regulus was now certain he just thought everything was one big play. With him in the starring role.

“How can you say that?! Are you that naïve? Lammas is just a week away and the historical site, where it had been celebrated for centuries, gets burnt down. Mudbloods know what it means to us!”

“And now they want us to pay for its reconstruction!” his mother added, scandalised.

Sirius, who until this moment stood in the doorway, made his way to the table, and sat down next to Regulus. He quickly put several things on his plate, and started eating. Regulus let out a sigh of gratitude, and sent a quick thank you to Merlin. It seemed the weather did help, indeed.

“Insufferable, filthy Mudbloods!”

A bang and the newspapers ended on the other side of the room, sliding gracefully down the wall, as if the way got there was not at all violent. Finally, landing on the floor, a small elf appeared and quickly moved them back to father. With an angry wave, he sent the elf away, showing he did not wish to read it anymore.

“I just cannot believe it. This society is going down, so fast, it is almost impossible to watch it. Imagine if one of their churches went up in flames. They would immediately point the finger to us. But, of course, the fire has not been even stopped yet and they immediately say it was an accident. An accident?! How could the fire start accidentally?”

“May there was a storm?” he asked in a small voice. He did not want an argument – it was so tiring, the daily bread of his. He hoped his father would see a reason and stop voicing his thoughts. Come on.

“A storm?! That starts a fire in the middle of nowhere?!”

His father was angry now. Regulus found it hard to imagine how someone could get angry so quickly. He himself found it kind of fascinating. As was his brother, and Regulus turned to him almost before he replied.

“Imagine that! A storm. In a countryside! Why would they do something like this? When it is blatantly obvious everybody will be blaming them?! They are not stupid!”

“Are they not?” came the thoughtful answer from his father.

“Well, I think they should find evidence before concluding anything,” Regulus stated in a conciliatory tone. Surely, there was no way any of the two could disagree with that. It was a due process, find the evidence. It was entirely possible that Mudbloods did it, there were attacks in the last few months against the upper classes. The Ministry had been targeted a few times, as was the Yule Ball. His father had to go down to DMLE to pick his brother and him up after one of the attacks left them as witnesses. But on the other hand, right now, Regulus was of the opinion that nothing could be concluded. The fire was still raging, and honestly, Regulus did not really care. They would get the results when the Department’s investigation closes.

“You think they will investigate? It is crystal clear who did it – they will not even investigate, they cannot say that their precious Mudbloods did it.”

“So what would you do?! Please do tell me!”

“Just put them all into concentration camps. Prevent them from harming society.”

“What? The majority of them would not be responsible even if some Muggleborn did it!”

“And? They target us without distinction, why should we punish just the ones who did it? Better we show them all, where they belong. And that they cannot behave like animals!”

“Have you ever even met any of them?!”

“Certainly not as many as you, you filth-loving bastard. Hogwarts is teeming with them, is it not?!”

Sirius shot up from his chair, his glass falling by the side, making everything on the plate soggy. Regulus only lowered his head further down. His mother did not appear disturbed; in fact, she was watching the debate with interest. “You always do this!” Sirius threw his arms up, and Regulus was again reminded of a theatre actor, “You always change the topic when you don’t have any more arguments! Which means I am right! You are just so bigoted, it’s unbelievable!”

“Watch your mouth, Sirius.”

“I know tens Muggleborns that are worthy more than you, so get off your high horse, father!” he spit out the word, “it can come back to bite you in the ass!”

“Sirius!” their mother finally reacted. With the teacup securely in the middle of the table, she stated angrily, “you cannot deny this is a strange coincidence, and the DMLE is so overrun with Mudblood-lovers that they will not be objective in their investigation. Do not be silly.”

“They are people, just like us. I can’t believe you seriously think it would be best to just punish them all! What has that ever solved?!”

“It is useless to argue about it before it is investigated. None of us can change anything about it, anyways.”

Why was it always up to him to make peace? Did none of the other family members want a peaceful breakfast? He felt that he should point out that the sun was shining bright and the bacon was delicious, just to uselessly try to change the topic. But by experience, he knew the only result would be that both of the sides would be mad at him. Sometimes he thought they all actually enjoyed fighting. Sirius lived for the attention, and his father loved arguing. His mother was different, much more like Regulus himself, but still had a temper quick enough to get involved.

“Shut up!” and “Be quiet!” rang out at the same time.

He sighed, but did not argue anymore. Instead, he helped himself to another helping of eggs. Ignoring the renewed shouting, he thought about how pointless it was: both sides had no evidence to support their arguments.

“I hate you!”

“I will give you a reason to hate us, you ungrateful spawn!”

Well… Regulus was realist enough to know that this was his cue to leave. He absolutely did not want to continue being present. With a last sip of his orange juice, he excused himself and went up to the library. As walked up the stairs, he wondered why the faith of the changing magical community had to be decided in their dining room.


End file.
